


Always Make Sure to Turn off Your Power Outlets When You Leave the Room

by snickets



Category: Ensemble Stars! (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Future, Infinity Zine, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-20
Updated: 2018-03-20
Packaged: 2019-04-05 03:43:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14035437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snickets/pseuds/snickets
Summary: Having a conversation with Tsukasa always made Tetora feel like he was taking the listening portion of an English exam in more ways than one. In one ear and out the other—Tsukasa sure could talk a lot. Part of Tetora still hadn't forgiven him for hogging so much of Anzu's time last year during her graduation. The other part of Tetora told himself not to be so childish about it. After all, it wasn't like Angeo had disappeared off the face of the earth. He had seen her just last week.The last part of Tetora was actually listening to Tsukasa.Which is to say: he hadn't actually heard anything Tsukasa had said for the past five minutes.How important could it be after all? Yumenosaki wasn't the same place it had been two years ago. Conspiracy, intrigue, scandal—that was all in the past now, right?Right?





	Always Make Sure to Turn off Your Power Outlets When You Leave the Room

It was amazing how Tsukasa could talk so long about nothing at all.

It'd probably been fifteen minutes since Tsukasa pulled Tetora into the empty broadcasting room, clutching his arm a little too tightly. That hadn't really a problem at all, though, since Tsukasa had the grip of a seven-month-old baby—same as the kid he sometimes saw at Midori's family's store. The baby was cute, all gummy smiles and finger-grabbing and adorable gurgling.

Tsukasa was considerably less so.

He really wasn't cute at all considering he was (annoyingly) taller than Tetora now and continued to talk to Tetora like they occupied different planes of existence (they didn't), and Knights had beaten Ryuseitai in a live recently which was dumb and unfair, especially since Tsukasa had brought out a song by Tsukinaga-senpai at the last minute. Tetora wished he could be less petty about it ( _blah blah_ know when you've lost your battles and prepare for the next one _blah blah_ ), but Morisawa-senpai and Shinkai-senpai and Anego and Taishou had been in the crowd and everyone had worked so hard to prepare for it and it had been going so well until the end of the set and—and—

God, Tetora really just hadn't wanted to lose to Tsukasa of all people.

"Are you listening to me?"

Not cute.

" _Unbelievable_ ," Tsukasa said or at least that's what Tetora thought he said—Tetora didn't know why Tsukasa had to drop in so much English everywhere all the time. Show-off.

Not cute at all.

"Here I am, sticking my neck out for you," Tsukasa said, folding his stick arms across his baby chest, "and there you are, not even deigning to pretend to listen to me." He huffed. "Honestly, you could stand to be a little more courteous, you know. You're a third year now. Immaturity is much less acceptable at this age."

"Yeah, sorry, you're right," Tetora said, folding his considerably more impressive arms across his equally much more impressive chest. "I should be more like you and try to buy out the entire campus' supply of candy every time I feel the teensiest bit stressed and then attempt to bulk order it to the archery club dojo when it turns out that no, I can't just throw my money around and expect everything to fall into my lap."

Tsukasa flushed pink. "I beg your pardon?"

"Y'know maybe you should take some of your own advice, third year." Tetora slumped down in one of the chairs, draping an arm over the back. He looked up at Tsukasa. "Stop being such a hypo-whatsit."

"Hypocrite."

"Yeah, I said that," said Tetora like he was a person who hadn't actually failed the Japanese exam they'd taken the previous week.

"Well, you're just mad that I beat you last week. We. Knights."

Tetora scoffed. "Yeah, with the help of Tsukinaga-senpai."

Tsukasa turned a deeper pink. "That was—!" He shifted his weight. "Knights was gifted a song from…Composer Warlock X. I don't know what you're talking about."

"Yeah, Tsukinaga-senpai."

"Composer Warlock X."

"Tsukinaga-senpai."

"Composer Warlock X."

"Tsukinaga-senpai."

"Composer Warlo—ugh." Tsukasa reached out and gave a weak kick to the seat of Tetora's chair, sending Tetora rolling back like, half a centimeter because he was super strong and could probably bench press five Tsukasas. "You just wanted me to repeat it, didn't you? You wanted me to make an absolute fool out of myself."

Tetora grinned up at Tsukasa. "A little bit."

"You...moron. I'm not lending you my notes anymore."

"S'fine. Hajime-kun has better grades than you anyway."

"He does not!"

"First in our year."

"I got first last term!"

"That was last term. Second year."

"Ugh, I'm not going to listen to this coming from someone who has had to retake their midterms every single semester since first year!"

Tetora frowned. Then, he scooted forward and kicked Tsukasa lightly against the thigh.

"Ow!" Tsukasa shoved Tetora back, pushing against his knees. "That hurt, you big oaf!"

"S'not my fault that your bones are made of glass and diamonds or some shit like that!"

"Diamonds are one of the hardest materials on the planet, idiot musclehead!"

"Well, the brain is a muscle so take that!"

"The brain isn't—!" Tsukasa closed his eyes and took in a deep breath, raising his hands up towards his head. When he exhaled, he dropped his hands and looked at Tetora. "Look, I came here to tell you something important," he said, pointing a finger at Tetora to punctuate his words. "So if you could stop antagonizing me and actually let me help you, I could move on with my life and stop thinking about this every _goddamn_ day."

"Sorry," Tetora said almost immediately, because he was someone who had learned the virtue of not ribbing his friends when they were trying to be serious with him.

"Okay!" Tsukasa threw his hands up into the air. "Okay! I—," he let his hands fall to the top of his head and exhaled. "The numbers for our live were off."

Tetora's mouth fell open a little.

He blinked.

Tsukasa sighed.

Tetora opened his mouth, eyes wide. "I kne—"

"You knew it! You knew it." Tsukasa covered his face with his hands. "Ugh, I hate this."

"What—"

"Someone tampered with the numbers."

Tetora scooted forward. "Someone tampered with the numbers!"

"The number of votes recorded and the ticket sales don't match with the actual audience numbers." Tsukasa spoke in a monotone.

"They don't match!" Tetora scooted forward again.

Tsukasa smacked him on the top of the head. "Don't be so pleased by this."

Tetora grinned. "Of course I'm happy!"

Tsukasa pressed his hand against the top of Tetora's head. "Be quiet."

"You lost, didn't you! You lost!"

Tsukasa pressed harder, fingers threading through Tetora's hair. "I did _not_ lose."

Tetora grabbed Tsukasa's wrist. "Someone tampered with the numbers! They don't match!"

" _Jesus Christ_."

"What?"

Tsukasa pulled slightly on Tetora's hair. "I'm not done, Nagumo-kun." He pulled a face. "You know, this is why Hasumi-senpai didn't let you into Akatsuki. Overeager, unpolished, and uncouth."

Tetora ignored the insult and tightened his grip on Tsukasa's wrist. "Hey, how come everyone else has gotten upgraded to first names but I'm still Nagumo, loser Tsukasa-kun?"

"Knights didn't lose. I didn't lose," Tsukasa said, ignoring Tetora's question. He pressed his lips together. "But the numbers weren't right."

"What does it matter then?" Tetora said, sulkiness creeping into his voice.

"Oh, stop that. Of course it matters." He relaxed his hand then said, in a low voice, "It matters because our portion of the profits were doctored as well."

"What?" Tetora's mind raced. "The student council?" He jerked Tsukasa's hand off his head. "Tori-kun?" he said loudly.

Tsukasa smacked his other hand against Tetora's mouth. "Quiet!" he hissed.

Tetora pulled Tsukasa's hand off easily. "We're in the broadcasting room. What's the point of being quiet? Nobody can hear us from the outside anyway. Not unless the equipment's turned on." Tetora squinted at the complicated-looking tangle of cables and mysterious technological black boxes. No lights. "And they're not," he said, overly confident in his limited knowledge of the broadcasting equipment from the vague explanations Shinobu-kun had thrust upon him earlier in the year.

"Still!" Tsukasa leaned forward, bracing his weight against Tetora's hands. "We have to be careful!"

There was silence for a few seconds as Tetora examined Tsukasa's face. He seemed serious enough. More serious than Tetora had ever seen Tsukasa, even through all of their typical, inane back-and-forth. "How bad is it?" he said, lowering his voice.

Tsukasa relaxed slightly and let out a sigh. "Not very bad, but..." He bit his lip. "I'm worried about the other lives. Even I only just noticed with this one; the margins are so slight. And we're already halfway through the year. Who knows how long this has been going on?"

"I mean, if it's been a while, somebody else would have noticed, right?"

Tsukasa shook his head. "It's not different enough to be noticed with a cursory look. The only reason I discovered it was because...," Tsukasa trailed off.

"Because...," Tetora prompted.

"Well, I—uh." Tsukasa flushed slightly then cleared his throat. "You did so well I thought, surely, there must have been a mistake with the votes," he muttered.

"Me?"

"You. Ryuseitai." He sniffed. "The rest of Ryuseitai, mostly. You've managed to get your hands on some very talented kouhai. Shinobu-kun does some remarkable choreography on stage. And Midori-kun has really come into himself this year."

"Yeah, Midori-kun's really good-looking, isn't he?"

"He's very—What?"

"Good-looking. Handsome. You know. Wasn't that what you were gonna say?"

"Well, yes, I suppose, but—"

"Best looking guy in the entire school," Tetora said proudly. He always enjoyed bragging about Midori-kun. It was one of his favorite things to do. "Nobody else stands a chance next to him. At least nobody in your group."

"Pardon me?"

"Y'know. Like, maybe Hajime-kun has a chance, but he's good-looking in a totally different way." Tetora gestured vaguely with his hands. "He's like, fine-boned or aristomatic or whatever Tomoya-kun says."

"Aristocratic."

"Yeah that. Well, he's about the only other one. Which is fine since I agree." Tetora nodded. "Fine-boned and aristomatic."

"Aristocratic."

"Aristocratic."

"But he—he doesn't even—!"

Tetora tilted his head. "What?"

Tsukasa lowered his voice. "He eats _bread crust_."

"What does bread crust have to do with anything? Don't you eat bread crust sometimes? Are you a kid?"

"Aristocratic..."

"Aristomatic."

"Yes, sorry, aristoma—" Tsukasa frowned. "No!"

Tetora grinned. "Gotcha."

Tsukasa huffed. " _Jesus Christ_ , why must you be so immature?"

"Hey," Tetora said, leaning back in the chair. "I'm not the one who doesn't eat bread crust."

"That's not—! Forget the bread crust!"

"You're the one who brought it up."

"Well, now I'm un-bringing it up."

"Sounds pretty immature to me."

"I'm not the one who started this entire conversation about the relative attractiveness of the students of our school!"

"I mean you did bring up Midori-kun."

Tsukasa stared at Tetora. "Well, yes, I did, but how was I supposed to know that the mere mention of Midori-kun would send you into a fit," he said, deadpan.

Tetora frowned. He kicked Tsukasa's leg. What the heck did he mean by that? "What the heck do you mean by that?" he asked.

Tsukasa kicked Tetora's chair so he bumped up against the recording equipment table. "Exactly what I said."

Tetora grabbed Tsukasa's thigh. It was more muscular than he was expecting, but he hadn't been expecting that much in the first place, so he supposed it wasn't that big of a deal but he still felt the need to comment on it and squeeze. "Dude, have you been working out?"

Tsukasa yelped. "Let go of me!" he said, indignant. He tried to shake his leg out of Tetora's grasp, but Tetora just pulled him closer.

"Is Knights' choreo really this difficult? I thought you guys just jumped up and down on stage after Narukami-senpai and Sena-senpai left."

That made Tsukasa plant his foot down between Tetora's legs. He leaned in close and rested his hands on the table behind Tetora, trapping him between his arms. "Just _jumping_?"

"Yeah," Tetora said. He squeezed Tsukasa's thigh again, tilting his head to the side. "But I guess jumping would do this much anyway."

" _Excuse me_?" Tsukasa planted a finger into Tetora's chest. "I'll have you know that we do much more than just _jumping_." He ground his finger into the fabric of Tetora's shirt, just below his undone button. "What does Ryuseitai even do anyway? Wave your arms around while Shinobu-kun does all of the work?"

Tetora jerked Tsukasa forward so suddenly Tsukasa lost his footing. He crashed into Tetora, knocking their heads together. "What was that for?!" Tsukasa said demandingly.

It was the tone of voice that would have normally gotten an equally annoying response out of Tetora, the kind of tone picked to push buttons he knew were easily set off, but Tetora found his mouth strangely dry as he looked at he looked at Tsukasa's face just a breath's space away from his. Tsukasa sure had long eyelashes for a guy. Tetora had never noticed that before. Long and sweeping and slightly lighter at the tips than the roots. He even had the faintest hints of freckles on his cheeks like the one day he had run around with no sunscreen at some private beach had known what a rare occasion it had been and decided to leave its mark on his skin.

Tsukasa breathed out and Tetora could feel his exhale against his skin, his own breath hitching in his throat for some weird, weird reason. He found himself looking down at Tsukasa's lips, slightly parted. There was a freckle on the edge of his left edge of his lower lip and it was stupid because it was really nothing like, who cared that Suou Tsukasa had a freckle on the edge of his lip like, it really didn't matter at all, but—

But.

But, still.

Tsukasa slipped in his clumsy attempt to right himself and pressed the his palm against Tetora's chest. His leg moved forward, making Tetora's hand slide further up his thigh, and it just seemed like the most natural, the most right, the best thing to do to tilt his head to the left and meet Tsukasa's lips in a kiss.

Tsukasa froze and Tetora immediately jerked backwards—a jumbled, instinctual apology getting tangled in his mouth and wrapped around his tongue—but Tsukasa simply relaxed himself down onto Tetora's lap and muttered something incomprehensible ( _What am I doing? What are you doing? Idiot?_ ) before kissing Tetora again.

So, maybe, _maybe_ Tsukasa was kind of cute.

Actually, the better word for Tsukasa would probably be good-looking or handsome or something, but what did Tetora know about words and descriptions when he had failed his Japanese exam last Monday and had to live through a hideously pitiful look from Tsukasa which had been infuriating at the time because why had Tsukasa gotten all the luck in life—nice brain, nice voice, nice face, nice lips.

Tsukasa broke the kiss briefly, making Tetora crane his neck up, chasing the ghost of Tsukasa's warmth, before his parted his lips and met Tetora's mouth once more.

And again.

And again.

Tsukasa reached a hand out behind Tetora to steady himself, Tetora's elbow knocking over some of the equipment on the table and digging into the buttons and knobs. His mind filled with nothing but static in his ears and the feeling of Tsukasa's heat against his tongue, every thought he had just distant echoes in the back of his mind, droplets falling from a faucet in the height of summer.

_It feels good._

_He feels good._

_His skin is so soft._

_His wrists are so thin._

_How much longer will he let me do this?_

_How much longer?_

_Will he let me?_

_I want to reach deeper._

_Further._

_There._

It was all cut short, though, when their combined weight proved too much for the precariously balanced back wheels of Tetora's chair. An ill-timed shift of weight to the right sent them falling to the ground, the back of the chair hitting the floor with a loud crash and Tetora acting as Tsukasa's human airbag.

It only took a second for the spell to break and for them to come to their senses, brains catching up to their instincts. 

"Ow!" Tsukasa said, digging the heel of his hand into Tetora's ribs, making him splutter for breath.

"What d'you mean 'Ow!'" Tetora replied, pushing Tsukasa off him. It turned out to be a harder task than he expected, seeing as how Tsukasa and the chair had him pinned down in all the right places. Great. Cool. Awesome! Just what he needed! His ears were burning and his heart was still beating faster than he'd like to admit, but he'd sooner bite off his own arm than admit anything before Tsukasa did first. "I should be the one saying 'Ow!'"

Tsukasa, for his part, was flushed red, his overlong hair tucked behind an ear and his cheeks puffed out slightly. "Well! You're not exactly the most _comfortable thing_ to land on!"

"Stop using English!"

"If it bothers you so much, learn English!"

"I know English! _I'm fine, thank you, and you?_ "

"Your pronunciation is terrible."

"It's not like yours is any better!"

"I have been learning English since I was 3 years old, idiot!"

Tetora sat up and placed a hand on Tsukasa's hip to steady himself. It brought them eye-to-eye and Tsukasa leaned forward the tiniest bit, hand gripping Tetora's sleeve tightly.

"Um…," came a hesitant voice from the door.

Shinobu's face was visible through the small sliver of space between the open door and the doorframe. "I…," he said and Tetora somehow found it in himself to remove his hand from Tsukasa's hip, instead letting it hover awkwardly next to his chest. "I, um—"

Tsukasa scrambled off of Tetora, practically throwing himself against the opposite wall. "H-hello, Shinobu-kun! Imagine running into you here! I thought you had gone home for the day! What a surprise seeing you in your—your own committee room!" The pitch and volume of his voice rose with every word as if squeak-yelling would make his words sound that much more believable.

Shinobu shifted his weight back and forth and fiddled with his fingers and Tetora swallowed. He knew nothing good could be coming out of Shinobu's mouth after that. He suddenly felt the urge to pray. But who should he pray to? Taishou's left bicep? Maybe his right one. His thighs? Midori-kun's weirdly soft hair? His shoulders? The freckle on the left edge of Tsukasa's bottom lip?

"I'm not...quite sure how to say this but…" Shinobu took in a breath. "You've been broadcasting yourselves across the entire campus for the past five minutes."

" _Shit_ ," Tsukasa said.

Well.

Taishou's left and right biceps, Midori-kun's shoulders, and that goddamn freckle it was.

**Author's Note:**

> this fic was originally written for the enstars rarepair zine! the rest of the zine is great and there's still some physical copies left as well as a digital copy that can be purchased, so i highly suggest you check it out at @esrarepairzine on twitter if you're interested.


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